2 weeks

August is two and a half weeks old. We’re tired, anxious, and smitten. We sleep in little bursts, which can work for a few days and then you start to feel like you’re moving through life in slow motion. You start seeing double and you forget what day it is, not that it matters. In any case, there’s much that I don’t want to forget, but probably will if I don’t record it somewhere:

:: the first week was punctuated by bursts of my crying. I’d weep because I was afraid something might befall the baby. I’d cry because I was convinced that he’d stop breathing and I’d cry because I was quite sure that his being alert signified a life-threatening neurological disorder. I’d cry because I felt overwhelming love and I’d cry because I was afraid that love was doomed. And then, for no apparent reason, I stopped crying.

:: the crying was a symptom of a much larger feeling of utter vulnerability. Within days of Aug’s birth, I realized that I felt more attached to him than I had to any other being, which, of course, is nature’s intention. Nevertheless, this attachment felt (and continues to feel) more terrifying than anything I’d experienced.

:: august loves to study the light. A few times every day, I catch him enraptured by the light filtering through the windows. His eyes go wide and he doesn’t blink for a full minute. He seems transfixed in these moments, enamored by certain slants of light.

:: i haven’t been able to get anything done. Aug and I sit together all day and most of the night. I’m sure that I’ll figure it out soon, but I just don’t quite understand how mothers of newborns manage to cook breakfast or do the dishes. The most we can master is taking a walk in the spring sun. Thank god the weather is turning.

:: i’ve been overwhelmed by the generosity of others. For the last week, friends have been bringing dinners over for us. This has saved us the burden of cooking when we’re exhausted and J is back at work. Mom and Don have also helped tremendously: taking Homer for hikes with his true love, Lucy, cleaning my house, doing my laundry, making sure my cup is full of hot tea. My sister, Molly, also swooped into town last week and made everything work for four days. J’s parents were here too and we enjoyed introducing them to their newest grandson.